


One petal for a memory

by soshi185



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Beauty and the Beast AU, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fantasy, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-13 01:38:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14739642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soshi185/pseuds/soshi185
Summary: [HinaNami/Beauty and the Beast! AU] Once upon a time, there was a rose that could be a flower or a key. Chiaki Nanami learns it when she sets her foot in the mysterious rose garden, guarded by beasts far more dreadful than cursed princes.But nothing happens without a reason.Together with the tower master shrouded in black, Nanami has the chance to solve two mysteries - one of murders in Princess Sonia's castle and one of a boy caught in the world of the spell.





	1. The wanderer under the flower sky

"The story of Beauty and the Beast would go perfectly with a self-righteous prince who, at the time of a magical test, drowns in his own pride and draws the witch's anger. And some silly girl, going straight between the monster's teeth despite her father's warnings. Do you agree, my dear sister? Our little, flowery scene is unprepared for such a... hopeless love tragedy!"

"Excuse me?"

Taken aback, Mukuro raised her head. Years spent with her younger sister have taught her that the stream of thoughts spouted by Junko on one exhalation could be chaotic and difficult to follow for those who didn't know her. The younger witch's attention was sometimes caught by a small detail, a seemingly insignificant word hanging at the end of a sentence or an imprudent gesture, in which Junko saw a spark setting fire all over the world, over hearts and souls. This spark now touched Junko’s pupil. Mukuro, until now leaning against the cool stone wall, straightened up and looked around the room with caution.

Junko was sitting on a high throne, its upholstery made of perfectly symmetrical belts of snow-white and ebony silk. She hunched a little, supporting her chin with one hand and knocking on the armrest with the other. Decorated with a row of glassy obsidians, the top of the backrest glimmered above her head like a black halo, in the dimness adding ominous aura of mystery she adored the most. The sisters were separated by a carpet, the large piece of fur taken from the two-colored bear which the younger witch had tamed and later gutted. Now it served her as another magic trophy, protecting her feet from cold stone when she didn't want to put on the slippers adorned with bows. Junko's eyes, almost hidden behind the sheet of pale light cast by the single flame of a candlestick, widened like those of a cat noticing a dove fluttering over its head.

Mukuro's body tensed. She followed her sister's gaze and found a picture reflecting in the smooth surface of a mirror hanging on the wall.

Reflection of all truth.

Closed inside of the gold frame, Junko's mirror had power to show what happened in the past, what was happening now, and what could happened in the farthest of possible futures. Mukuro admitted in silence that her sister had never read the events of tomorrow with prophecies sent through the mirror, but if she claimed it was possible, Mukuro wasn't going to doubt. Junko was never wrong.

Now the glass surface, despite its old age not deformed by a scratch even as thin as a chenille thread, depicted a girl in a green cloak, breaking through the walls of rose bushes. Her steps were careful; she lifted up the long skirt as not to get tangled in creepers stretched on the ground or catch herself on thorns sticking out from everywhere. Though her face stayed hidden under a wide hood, even without seeing her expression Mukuro easily guessed that the girl was lost. The stranger stopped and looked around. Her hands tightened on the skirt until her knuckles whitened.

Wanting to get a closer look at the details, Mukuro stood at her sister's side and concentrated on the landscape shown behind the girl's back, blurred like concealed decorations of a poor theater play. She narrowed her eyes. The mirror focused only on the girl and softened the surroundings, but Mukuro spotted flower arches spread over the girl’s head, where white roses bloomed like full moons brought to the ground and scraps of sunlight were embroidered with green leaves. After a while the girl's heel hit the white-tiled path. Curious, the stranger stomped again, as if checking if the hidden trapdoor wouldn't open, but only walked on few petals padding the path. She zigzagged beside them.

The scene shocked Mukuro. Now she could clearly see the black and white tower, slowly emerging on the horizon.

"An intruder?" she breathed in surprise.

"Shut up, my sweet, incompetent sister," Junko replied and put the finger to her lips. She didn't take her eyes off the mirror. "Just look."

Mukuro obediently fell silent.

The nameless girl was standing still, then turned around, fluttering with both her skirt and the cloak reaching the ankles. She was trying to choose the surest way, Mukuro understood. Each of the wanderers deceived by Junko was confused, but movements of the others were characterized by greater panic, speed, terror driven by their desire to escape. The hooded girl wandered, not knowing the way to the tower, so she had found the garden by accident, just like the rest. The barrier surrounding their white walls didn't let anyone see the gate from the outside, and the spells cast by Junko imposed their own rules and laws on the reality of the tower. Mukuro remembered this, and yet... the girl kept some unusual calmness as for a dangerous situation. Her every gesture was perfectly balanced: whether it was a head turn or a step on the path. For Mukuro, even simple information could prove to be useful in the future. She knew that Junko noticed it too.

The stranger had to catch sight of the tower, a moment ago hidden under layers of protective spells, because she stopped abruptly and shaded the horizon, as Mukuro could only guess without seeing her eyes. The girl came closer and threw back the hood, finally showing her face.

Mukuro immediately began to inspect her with the warrior's attentive gaze, pulling out weaknesses and remembering strength. The stranger wasn't older than sixteen or seventeen; her face was round and her cheeks were ruddy, the features still didn't lose childish softness. She raised her hand and shielded the strawberry eyes from the sun, probably much brighter than in her own dimension. She also pursed her lips, shaped like a heart. If she was the one Junko had described as Beauty, Mukuro had to agree - the girl was unquestionably beautiful. However, she seemed to have nothing else as Mukuro saw her fragile figure even through the loose cloak, and the skinny wrists seen under the sleeve weren't those of a swordsman's.

The surface of the mirror flickered and splashed with shards of colors like stained-glass windows, and marks of light mixed with images showing other places in the tower and around it. From the tangle of gleam and shades Mukuro picked out a glimpse of a dark silhouette, sitting motionless on the marble steps. He looked like one of those old, stone gargoyles, lying in wait at the tops of railings.

She instinctively looked at Junko.

"Have you summoned another victim?" she asked, deliberately ignoring reflection of the man. Her voice was hoarser than she'd expected.

"In the end you are so stupid, Mukuro," Junko sobbed in reply, not even bothering to pretend honesty, "I have no idea why I'm keeping you... But what can I do, the miserable younger sister, condemned by the cruel fate to look after the incompetent, older sister!? Poor me! Me, sad and beautiful..."

Passively watching as Junko, with tears on her cheeks and palms in the air, played in the theater of crocodile tears was the best solution in similar situations. Mukuro has already learned it many times before. This false hysteria had a positive impact on her sister's mood, thanks to which Junko wanted to even explain her plans. But now the young witch didn't have a chance to cry to the end, and it was not Mukuro who interrupted her wailing.

"Is anyone here? Who you are? I know you are watching me... or at least I think so."

The voice echoing in the chamber came from inside the mirror. Mukuro, previously imperturbable, shuddered slightly. Until now she was sure the mirror could reveal images, but sounds didn't have the power to break through the solid glass. Now without questions she heard the girl from the garden; her words were muffled, as if she was speaking to them from behind a thin wall, but Mukuro understood her. Almost involuntarily, she noticed that the stranger's voice was sweet and quiet, and a little sleepy, that of a person who was just awoken from a deep dream. Now she turned her face to them and boldly looked at Junko, noticing something beyond what she was supposed to see.

To Mukuro's surprise, the mirror's reaction must have amazed Junko not less than her. The younger of the witches kept her face impenetrable, but said nothing and returned her gaze with a raised head, although the girl in the garden couldn't know it.

Or maybe she knew, Mukuro realized, because the girl frowned and took a step back, stepping on the edge of the skirt and almost falling on one of the bushes. At the last moment she caught her balance and straightened up, looking around again.

"You didn't open the doors to the garden, did you?" Mukuro guessed.

"How many times do you intend to repeat the same question, again and again, before you are satisfied?" Junko's voice was silent, barely humming, but she was throwing sharp warnings like spears. Mukuro wanted to duck. "It bores me! Your incompetence bores me! You want to offend me?"

"I want to help you. This person can see us..." she half-asked, half-stated.

"That's good. I didn't foresee such a situation, and it means the world is not boring enough to burn in flames of my curse."

"No human who hasn't picked the rose bred from the seed of this ground can enter the garden. That's how the spell works. So why is the girl here?"

"Who knows... maybe she is breaking spells? Isn't that funny? Or maybe sad? Full of despair?"

Mukuro decided to leave the conversation as it was and return to the mirror. She did it when the girl's hand went up and her fingers clenched on a brooch clasping the top of the cloak. Compared to prudent searching through the garden, this gesture was slow and marked by heaviness, as if the girl looked for a familiar feeling in the touch of cold metal kissing the skin. Mukuro blinked. She didn't pay much attention and now, driven by some unspecified premonition, came closer. From this distance she could see the shape of the brooch: a pointing to the top arrowhead, white and shining in the middle and red at the edges, with a blade as intensely blue as if the girl put it in paint. A few rays hanging above her head reflected in the shimmering surface, stinging Mukuro's eyes. The witch turned and swallowed when thoughts swirling in her mind and crashing each other stopped and laid out in a logical manner, bringing understanding. She recognized the symbol that adorned the girl's collar, and everything became sharp and obvious - the unexpected visit she and Junko hadn’t noticed earlier, the door to their dimension opened by a third person, even passing the invisibility spells protecting the tower. She couldn't believe that it was a mystery a moment ago.

"Junko?" Mukuro's fingers slipped over the base of the long dagger she carried at the leather belt on her hip. “Let me take care of her. Such decorations are worn only by members of the royal council serving Princess Sonia. What's more, it's the sign of the strategist, belonging to the elite of fifteen. Letting this girl walk freely is too dangerous."

Junko's lips, as crimson as the lace ruffles at the bottom of her dress, formed in a wide smile.

"Are you stupid or just blind?"

Mukuro hesitated.

"You're not going to do anything? And what if she enters the tower?"

"That's right, my sister! We don't have guests very often. Especially those who open the passage without my knowledge. It would be very rude of us to not greet her with supper."

"Do you want to let her in? That's insane."

"Insanity..." Junko sighed, "It's nothing more than a trait of outstanding people, rising high by jumping on a trampoline of mediocrity... It's so sad, your rejection of madness."

The sinister sparkle dancing in the corner of her eye made Mukuro feel icy water running down her spine. Despite the clear instructions, she unwittingly clenched her fingers on the hilt of the dagger. Junko's face was a kaleidoscope of emotions and moods, thoughts and feelings - she was taking on the mask of despair as desolate as night just to throw it off and show surprised audience a sunny smile, and everything depended on where the witch was standing. Always moving, never stopping, one wink was enough to miss the flash of her true feelings. Now Mukuro had the opportunity to experience one of those rare moments when Junko was fully exposed, leaving silks and removing her stage makeup, and allowed countless thoughts to reflect in her eyes. She was almost curious whether her sister lost her temper or maybe playing the main role bored her like everything else. The girl from the garden ceased to be a target, for Mukuro it was difficult to even take her as a threat. She became just another pawn in Junko's hand. And the real Junko was terrifying, still as beautiful as portraits, but at the same time marred with a grimace of cruelty.

Suddenly, sadism disappeared from her face, giving in to cheerfulness contrasting with the serious situation. She twirled around her finger a strand of blond hair.

"Now, now, what are you waiting for? She's so cute!" Junko drawled, "I want to meet her as soon as possible!"

"In that case, should I bring her to you?" Mukuro asked uncertainly.

"Wait!" Junko waved her hand and long fingernails stopped a millimeter from Mukuro's nose. She giggled. "Let Kamukura take care of this for us."

"Him?" The mere thought of sending him to the girl filled Mukuro with a fright no less than the stranger meeting with Junko. "Why? He won't agree."

"It depends on how nice we ask him. I know that you are unpleasant but at least try. Now go for it! Tell him that I've prepared a small, very not-boring surprise."

 

* 

It all started with a yank.

Nanami felt as though she dipped her legs in the sea water and a foamy wave hit the shore, embracing her with its arms and pulling out the ground; one moment she was walking around the palace courtyard, tracing small patterns on the petals of rose she had found in the dining room, then suddenly immersed in pure energy, the one tearing the air and screams out of her lungs. Nanami resisted, forcing her body to fight against the current, but in the face of the ocean of magic she was nothing more than a kidnapped grain of sand. Her knees bended, the long skirt went up slightly, and she could only tilt her head and wait. She was drifting inertly on the very surface of the air. After a while the sensation was gone and Nanami realized she really hung in the air only when she landed on the ground.

She groaned under her breath and tried to sit down. It was a surprise to find out that her fingertips weren't touching the stony ground, but rather blades of grass pricking her hands. She looked around and froze, which was rare.

"Oh my..." she mumbled.

Nanami was in the most beautiful garden she had ever seen. At least she thought so. The strategist was far from being an expert in the field of gardening, but she had enough knowledge to distinguish a place built on the foundations of magic from an average park. The inky night sky she saw a moment ago was replaced with cloudless blue. The moon, just surrounded by wreaths of stars, hid behind the morning sun that washed with blinding glow the immensity of green grass and flowers. Nanami parted her lips in awe. The beauty spreading around grabbed her, stifled the horror visions which had led her here. Roses were blooming on the bushes and wrapping in tender embrace bark of trees, climbing even higher, up to leaves and crowns, grew in the grass one by one or in whole armfuls, and the wind was tearing the petals in the air, making them look like colorful snowflakes. Some shrubs were shining with scarlet so intense that drops of blood could as well soak them, others were ice-white. Nanami noticed black roses of death and sunny tea roses, and those smeared with delicate pink. 

She glanced down, at her hand. The red rose, secretly taken from Princess Sonia's palace, was still squeezed between her fingers. The thorns began to scratch her skin, leaving a mark like a ruddy stripe. Guided by a hunch she has learned to trust to not lose the game, Nanami quickly reached behind and hid the rose under the cloak. She was almost certain the frail key had opened the door to a new dimension.

Then she went on a search.

The air had a completely different smell, Nanami assessed, circling and looking around. It was full of spring, sweetness of young flowers and the magic she remembered from her father's life.

From another story, from a long time ago.

At that thought, her heart jumped. Finding herself in a strange garden and having more worries on her mind, Nanami couldn't get rid of that feeling of intimacy digging out memories of a little girl, learning basics of magical techniques from long and complex formulas left on her father's parchments. She told herself to stay calm, giving her inner voice firmness that she sometimes used to admonish others. And yet her own stubbornness didn't work so well on her. What a waste. Her father and the creative magic went side by side and no matter how hard Nanami tried to cut off those thoughts, they were weighing her like a rusted ball chained to her ankle. At Princess Sonia's court, only Gandham Tanaka was involved in the art of magic, but the main stable keeper and animal guardian was using a completely different set of symbols and substances to cast spells, what helped Nanami to build a solid wall between the world of innocence and life of the court strategist. Sometimes it was too easy to believe she was not that different from the rest...

She closed her eyes and yawned deeply, feeling that grim thoughts tired her no less than lack of sleep. It would be rude to forget about father - even a person playing at feelings as badly as her knew it - and since memories were about to corner her, it was better to embrace them and cuddle inside of her heart. Every obstacle could be a weapon if turned to the opponent. Father surely would worry, and his cheeks would mark those familiar, warm and caring tears she knew so well, but nevertheless he would believe in Nanami and do anything to release his daughter from the strange, flowery prison. She couldn't let him down. That made Nanami walk confidently.

Knowing that the only way leads forward, she searched through the garden. The arches of white roses towered above her, looking more like bars of a bright cage rather than garden ornaments. Nanami slowed down, folding her arms hidden under the cloak. The smell of familiar magic made her feel uncomfortable.

Along with arriving to a new place, she usually tried to descry an exit. It couldn't be found in the garden, as Nanami judged. What an unlucky game. And she hit the unlucky path. All she could do was avoiding the chasing sequence.

Remnants of hope were smoldering in her soul even when she had to stop every now and then to free her skirt from the thorns. It was when Nanami found the path. The stony river of white tiles writhed through the center of the garden and led away, contrasting with greenery encircling it and announcing that Nanami stumbled onto the unmatched element she was looking for. To her disappointment, even stomping didn’t open a hidden passage. In her mind she was already dreaming about underground corridors, full of traps so fun to pass, so it was difficult to hide her disappointment. The garden was killing expectations with each new step.

Maybe she was wrong and all this farce was nothing more than a stupid joke, a prank made by her friends from the castle, maybe even by Sonia herself? In their current situation, the royal council wouldn't allow wasting any time, and yet such an explanation sounded more and more believable. Nanami was ready to abandon solving mysteries of the red rose when the outline of the tower loomed on the horizon. It emerged from the blue of the sky as if from the depths, an edge after an edge, brick by brick, then gained sharpness, became stable on its foundations. In the first impulse Nanami thought that she only imagined it, so raised her head higher, but the building was still brazenly standing in front of her, so real and tangible. She could swear that a moment ago it wasn't there, in the end it was difficult to miss something equally impressive: the thick line divided the tower into two perfectly symmetrical sides - one white, one black.

The girl stopped and took off the hood, which didn't really help as the sun immediately blinded her and squeezed tears out of her eyes. She winced and put her hand to the forehead, determined to gather as much information as possible. Maybe she has found the enemy base, and this should have been considered a success. But what to do if the tower turns out to be a trap? The thought weakened her temporary enthusiasm. It would be wise to avoid danger and choose a different path, although eyes of the flowers watching her every stumble, scraps of the same shapes repeating, confirmed that the garden had no beginning or end, and the only door to the outside world led up the stairs. It was just a small hunch but Nanami decided to entrust it. She had no choice but to move forward.

She sighed, tired and restless. Entering the enemy house with full awareness of this decision differed from being transferred to the garden against her will. Nanami didn't carry weapons. Only flowers were growing everywhere, but their small thorns were a poor line of protection. She quickly analyzed the chances, compared winning and losing. She still had a brooch fastening her cloak. Nanami wasn't the best trained warrior, but the badge she received from Sonia had a sharp end and could cut an assailant if necessary.

Later everything happened faster than a petal falling from the rose reached the ground. Nanami sensed presence of another person so clearly that someone could breathe on her shoulder. She looked back, but no one was there.

"Is anyone here? Who you are? I know you are watching me... or at least I think so."

The answer was lurking in silence, thick like mist rising above the ground. A sudden shiver pierced her. Instead of soothing calmness, clearing feelings and giving words to elusive thoughts, the garden was shrouded in a pall of silence. Behind it something was hiding, something was observing. Nanami took a quick step back and almost fell to the ground, stomping on the edge of the path. At the last moment she moved her hands and caught balance. The scenario of fighting prepared with such precision turned out to be foolish, because Nanami, used to giving orders to the pawns, was already breathing hard. Only half-aware of her gestures, she reached for the brooch. The object was still sharp like an arrowhead, connecting the foreign garden and the palace, _her_ palace.

She waited and waited, not even sure what she was looking for, but nothing changed. The same luminous spots cast by the sun were dancing on the stone, and the roses had that sweet aroma of pollen and creation magic.

*

The answer came by itself, walking the stone path.

Nanami was sitting on the grass and playing with a leaf she had picked up earlier, twirling it between her fingers side to side, up and down. Despite her concern, it hit her that the extensive and unobstructed garden would be perfect for playing tag. She was never one to master games demanding physical fitness, but even losing couldn't wipe off the smile elicited by every game. It was sad that the garden didn't turn out to be just as good to play hide and seek...

She decided to wait a little, still afraid that her vague opponent had prepared an ambush and would attack as soon as Nanami approach the tower. That would explain not only an unexpected appearance of the new building, but also impression of being observed. She guessed the garden was protected by sight spells, their master could easily see her even if she hid in the finest corner. Hiding didn't do anything, so Nanami was sitting in the limelight, exposing her face to the sun glow. She had to think about things.

Finally, she decided to go around the garden and find its borders, then walk along. The chance of finding the way out was little, but in fact Nanami didn't intend to run away. She had sworn something to Princess Sonia and the royal council the night before, after finding in the throne room another body… Nanami was slowly approaching the mystery, though she still couldn't capture it and present in words she was dealing with worse than with fancy tactics. The answers were slipping between her fingers. She only knew that the person responsible for the death of someone close to her was nearby, thrusting a painful thorn into her heart. For now, Nanami could learn as much as possible about this place, understand its boundaries and perhaps prepare a hiding place for herself. Eyes half-closed, she raised her head and bathed in sun when she heard a sound in the distance.

She turned her head abruptly. Earlier in the garden it was impossible to hear the wind, some muffled humming in between the leaves. Now the silence was torn apart by the echo of steps. Nanami listened.

Could treading have a color? It never came to her mind, but the sound that reached Nanami’s ears now was unnaturally loud, although light and distant, confident and careful. The girl jumped to her feet, feeling fear building up in her. Thoughts tangled in her head, plans got lost and left emptiness.

Finally someone appeared on the path, a long and slender shadow slowly gliding toward her. Nanami narrowed her eyes. The figure clothed in black from head to toe stood out against the bright colors of the garden, seemed to be in conflict with it, like a dark spot of ink spilled by accident on a light sheet of paper. He came from a different world than people she met. Nanami immediately realized it, though she didn't know why. Long, black hair lay down in waves on his shoulders, covering half of the face and reaching to the ankles. Behind him an equally long and black cape covered the ground. The man walked slowly in her direction, giving Nanami time to look at each move, see strength attired in majesty. He was quiet and she could hear his soles crackling against the stone path clearly like a thunder cutting the sky. As if the sight of the man in black bathed in the rain of sunrays sharpened her senses.

"Who are you?" she asked, trying not to raise her voice too much.

If he heard her, he didn't react. The man was silent until he was at hand from Nanami. Then he stopped, and she jumped back, guided more by instinct than by a real hope to escape.

"I was told that in the rose garden there is a mortal girl who can see places hidden for others. That skill is rather rare among people without talent, although it is not unique to me. And yet," he paused and closed his eyes, "meeting someone different from the predictable rest excited me for a second. In the end, I find a shaking girl. What a disappointment..."

He didn't threaten her, insult or accuse. He spoke to Nanami in a bored, monotonous tone devoid of intonation or feelings. Like a barrel organ hiding inside the complex structure, repeating the melody at unnatural rate and rhythm.

Although the man mentioned disappointment, it didn't reflect in his voice.

"Who are you?" Nanami repeated, louder this time.

"This question is not worth the answer. Now, you seem more important, girl. Did you break into my garden?"

"I didn’t break in," Nanami replied in truth, "and I didn't intend to bother you. Actually, I'm not sure how I got here."

His eyebrow twitched, but surprise didn't reach his again opened eyes.

"I understand."

Nanami closed fingers of her right hand on the brooch, touched the pointed part to feel its sharpness. She acted almost unconsciously, but this simple gesture softened the gallop of her rushing heart. She took a deep breath and focused.

The man didn't bring a weapon. Even if he was hiding something, it couldn't be anything large: shape of the thinnest dagger would show under the simple linen shirt, his pants clung to the body and the cape was light enough to bend under the weight of metal. It didn't make Nanami feel safer. On the contrary; most often, one moment was enough to make sure that an opponent could easily break her neck with their bare hands. And yet the man didn't carry a weapon at his side, so she could hope he didn't have hostile intentions.

_'For now,_ ' the invariable voice of a strategist added in a whisper. Nanami was aware of this and couldn't bring herself to trust the stranger, but she didn't know the board which was the rose garden. The only solution left was to play by the rules of her opponents. This didn't shatter the chance of winning.

"Besides," Nanami murmured, deciding to continue the conversation, "you asked me why I invaded your garden, but you are not the master of the tower, are you?"

The stranger grimaced so insignificantly that Nanami only blinked and it has already disappeared from his face. He nodded and stared at her with a penetrating look of crimson eyes, and Nanami huddled under its weight. No matter how often in her head she combined red with blood, she never felt intensity of this comparison as tangibly as now, flooded with red spilling from his pupils. It was thick and viscous like goo, and goose bumps grew on Nanami's forearms.

"Such confidence in the mouth of a human. Do I not look like a castle master?"

"That's not the point," she replied, struggling with need to step back, "Actually, you are so full of majesty that you look like a real prince. If I had to choose a character to defeat in order to take the castle, I would choose someone who is similar to you."

The man didn't comment on her words and didn't take his eyes off her. Nanami continued, trying to calm her breath.

 "I guessed it because you just confessed someone informed you about my arrival. If you had been the master of this world, you would have surely place the sight spells yourself. There is no reason to entrust an important task to anyone else. If that person saw me first, they must be responsible for observing the garden and putting up the barriers."

"There is a grain of truth hidden in your words," the man sighed, not looking at her anymore. Nanami finally swallowed a bump growing inside her throat. "And yet such naive deduction will not arouse my interest. Also, do not judge my strength incorrectly. I do not want to deal with something as boring as guarding the tower."

"I never allow myself to judge lightly."

Nanami summoned courage and raised her head, wanting to take a closer look at the stranger's face. From a distance he seemed to be older, like an ancient creature keeping youth from the beginning of the world. Now she noticed that the age difference between them couldn't exceed a few years. For a moment she was surprised by the beauty she hadn't seen before, and which now revealed in all glory. The stranger had serious, regular features, expressive eyes surrounded by a line of black eyelashes, an alabaster white skin contrasting with the depth of black hair. The perfect combination of spirit and beauty. Only his eyes still frightened her. She thought that one of the red roses has been enchanted in them.

"Did you kill the two subordinates of Princess Sonia?" she asked bluntly.

Logic kept her out of accusations that might endanger her, demanded to hold her tongue. He was on the familiar ground and had more knowledge, she wasn't even aware of how she found herself in the garden. The senses of a strategist criticized stupidity she has just committed. And still before her eyes played the performance she had witnessed the previous evening, a spectacle as red as the man's eyes. The petals of blood from the dining room floor became black in the moonlight, as if someone smeared the ground with tar, and the bodies had covered in the dark. One could walk by, telling themselves that their senses were deceived and nothing happened. Only screams ringing in her ears reminded that death was not a dream.

How could she talk calmly with someone who might have blood of her loved ones on their hands? How could she consider stalling, mere cowardice? Nanami could forget much, but death would never be forgiven.

She must have got the man's attention because he blinked a few times, though still didn't move. They only talked for a moment but Nanami got used to his restrained behavior and didn't expect a bigger reaction. In spite of this, insensibility thrown in her face after such accusation irritated Nanami.

He shook his head, "You are angry. It's so human-like, and predictable. I knew about it…"

He paused and looked away, somewhere far from her. Nanami followed his gaze. She was afraid to see succour or other threat rushing from a distance, but they were surrounded by the same scrap of garden, interspersed between multicolored flowers and fresh grass. The man sighed. "I predicted that sooner or later someone would take the revenge for these two. I told it the woman you're probably looking for, and she knew it, too. In this respect, she is similar to me, but still so boring. You were a matter of time, girl. The only deviation from my supposition is that you came earlier than I expected. But I also considered it."

"What do you want?" Nanami hissed, frowning, "Are you planning to do something to the princess?"

"The regent's life has no meaning to me, just like the life of every other person."

"The regent's?" Nanami repeated, surprised.

It was the first time she heard someone calling the princess in a similar manner. Admittedly, in the kingdom still lived those who remembered the death of the previous king and the unexpected succession of Sonia, but after years of proving the political proficiency and devoting her heart to people, even the doubtful ceased to point Sonia's past or circumstances of her taking the throne. The stranger's statement was dripping with something that Nanami couldn't name. Tartness? Deprived of emotions, but still perceptible breath of bitterness? Nanami could imagine the man calling Sonia an usurper in the same tone.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

He didn't answer. The stranger once again looked Nanami in the eyes - stretching an invisible rope between them and immobilizing her, as if he was looking deep into her, appropriated all attention to himself. Nanami instinctively turned the brooch between her fingers.

"The fact that you are here must mean that you picked up my rose. Am I wrong?"

"No," she denied and added, "I didn't pick up your rose."

Hundreds of thoughts hit her head at once, wanting to blow her up and leave in tatters. Should she lie and say she hadn't seen any rose? Or maybe stay honest and admit she had found the red rose, now hidden beneath folds of the cloak, but not in the garden? She possessed no information about the enchanted flower, which apparently turned out to be quite important for the man, and it was difficult for Nanami to make a decision.

But the stranger only bent forward her, not cutting the thread of gaze joining them.

"Whoever steals roses from this garden must be prepared for consequences. I won't make an exception for anyone."

He moved so fast that looked like a black streak, as elusive as a shadow moving at noon under the full sun's eye. Nanami did the only thing that came to her mind. Started to run.

She turned away and rushed forward, crossing the ocean of grass. Layers of her long skirt suddenly began heavy, tangled between her legs and limited freedom of movements, and the blades of grass were breaking with a quiet clash under her heels. The path was exceptionally easy for the uneven garden areas, but Nanami stumbled now and then. Despite this, she didn't slow down, putting all her willpower in every next step. She didn't know where she was, where she was going and what she should do. The sound of blood in her ears was repeating one simple sentence: escape from the man in black. Nanami didn't have any evidence, but also without them she knew he was more dangerous than any weapon. The strategist's hunch.

The world around her disappeared; colors coalesced with hues of sounds into one barrier pushing against her lungs. She muttered to herself orders, just not to stop, though exhaustion started to crawl along her muscles. She was breathing heavily and sweat slid on her eyelids, hung on her eyelashes.

A little more, just to lose sight of him.

Nanami left behind the stone path, ran past an arbor, passed a small fountain spouting trickles of clear water. The roses didn't disappear - they were watching her everywhere, laughing at her with petal lips. Nanami suspected they could really see her.

Finally, she reached the less tidy part of the garden. Without thinking, she cringed in the brush and screamed as thorns left long, bloody stripes on her legs. She staggered...

Suddenly, somebody's hands crushed her arm like pincers. Nanami almost felt the pressure of fingers on the surface of her bones. She cried, but couldn't break free. The man turned her to himself with one efficient move and held so that she wouldn't fall on the thorns.

"Welcome to the Black and White Tower, miss"

Nanami struggled, but it only strengthened the man's grip. In the last desperate act of self-defense, she analyzed all the possibilities, re-evaluated available options and chose the one she had considered at the beginning...

She would do anything to protect her friends.

Nanami quickly raised her hand and stuck the brooch in the stranger's forearm...

It only cut through the air. Emptiness appeared where his arm was a moment ago.

Before she lost consciousness, she noticed her brooch falling from her hand and rolling on the grass.


	2. The boy behind the curtain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still cannot believe this story started as a one-shot. Soon it turned out that I have too many ideas and all of them are asking to be written down. And so the story continues. 
> 
> Big thanks for all who commented and left kudos! You encourage a poor writing potato to create more!

Nanami woke up to the sound of water.

If she was more rested and less nervous, she would probably wonder how many times one can wake up in a strange place in just a day. Nanami wasn’t the most energetic person and sometimes she took naps during her breaks, only to be later taken to the chamber. In the sense, she was used to magical teleportation, to infused with the charm of childhood falling asleep in one place and waking up in another. She was holding her inner child by the hand. Now, however, Nanami wasn't in the palace bedroom. More precisely, she was not at the palace at all.

The first thing Nanami noticed when multicolored dots finally stopped flying before her eyes wasn't the bed, or the palace courtyard, or the grass of the rose garden. No - she was sitting upright on the stone framing of the fountain, and water splashing behind her was drizzling on her arms and hair with shining droplets. Nanami slowly looked around, trying to make her way in the new situation.

It was a garden, although this one was significantly different from the place of the red-eyed stranger. Nanami was relieved that the air around her was dripping with heat, because at the very thought of the man a drop of water on her neck suddenly appeared icy. Perhaps the temperature could warm blood in her veins. Then, as if on demand, the breath of hot air wrapped Nanami's face, and it was refreshing enough to wake her up and so suffocating that she wished to take off her cloak. A stupid thought crossed her head but could spring turn into summer in just one dream?

After a moment she realized that her deduction was not totally unfounded. The landscape has changed; the palette of pastel greens has become a painting depicting the world filled with harsh colors. The blinding sunset covered the stone fountain with strokes of orange, red and pink, and the contours of trees, closing Nanami in the circle of long shapes, cut off against warmth of the sky. The last rays of sunset fell on raspberry bushes beside her. The evening, however, didn't bring lower temperature. Nanami wiped sweat from her forehead, sighing. In the air she smelled forest, mixing with the aroma of hot earth and pollen. The fountain on which she was sitting was in a different world and Nanami crossed the threshold once again, not even remembering when she closed the door. There, among roses, was magic, sweet and heavy like a spoon covered with honey. Here Nanami could feel summer scratching in her throat, natural and somewhat pleasant. It recalled bright evenings spent with chilled wine, picking berries and outdoor games.

Nanami stretched, yawning without embarrassment. She didn't feel pain, which was definite a plus, she was not sore or numb either. Secretly she hoped that after waking up she would be less sleepy, but grains of dreamy sand were still prickling under her eyelids. Stress of the last few days was leaving scars. Health points to recover, as she thought. However, there was no time to bend over minor disappointments when important problems were hidden around the corner. First of all, Nanami had to establish her location. The hypothetical change of the season was both important and unclear, so it was easier to start with something smaller. For example, with an hour. If her meeting with the unknown man in black had occurred at noon, and she woke up just now, when in turn the day was falling asleep, her memories missed at least a few hours. Six? Seven? What happened to her during that time? She had been abandoned? But what would be the purpose of kidnapping if the man was going to leave her alone? Such behavior was meaningless, and the nameless man didn't give the impression of a person who would make unreasonable decisions. There was also the possibility that Nanami had acted under the spell and only now escaped from the magic, so she couldn't remember the course of the last hours. If so, where did she get?

She stood up and smoothed her skirt. To get answers to any question, she couldn't sit still and just think. Each board was giving her new tips which later formed into one puzzle. Nanami felt as if she was playing chess and every hour was sealed by an hourglass. This time there was no running sand, but she didn't doubt the time to solve the mystery was limited.

She looked around and noticed that she wasn't alone.

On the other side of the fountain was sitting a stooping boy. Nanami could see only the back of his head, rippling like a watercolor picture and distorted by the wall of water spattered by the fountain. She almost held her breath. If he didn’t notice her, Nanami could slip away, though this plan reminded her of the man in black and her miserable disaster.

Nanami believed she would be able to escape.

He had caught her in a moment.

She hadn't had a chance to defend herself. She was powerless.

Confidence, pushing her forward a moment ago, disappeared like a blown crown of a dandelion. If the boy was similar to the man from the garden, running would only catch his attention and give Nanami more trouble. Hiding and waiting until the stranger goes away was also difficult - being in such an open space, Nanami could only squat behind the fountain. To reach the forest, she would first have to approach the boy. Could she do it unnoticed? Maybe, but the risk was high.

Nanami bit her lip and quickly analyzed other ideas. Finally, she decided on a discreet retreat. In her reckless courage, she hoped for a glimmer of luck, though events of the last few hours proved she should rather avoid gambling. Fortune didn't favor her.

She leaned out from behind the curtain of water and tried to slip on tiptoes past the boy. Her heart was again pounding like a clock announcing the full hour. Suddenly, every move became louder - the shoes snapping on the marshy ground, the breath, more powerful than the wind, the cape flapping behind her back.

_'A few more steps’_ , Nanami said in her mind, not taking her eyes off the stranger. Only a few more.

The most difficult part was still waiting for her. In order to hide in a safe thicket of trees, Nanami first needed to stand in plain sight. If the boy turned away now, he would see her clumsily hiding her face in the hood or crawling on the ground like an earthworm, desperately trying to duck back behind the fountain. Both possibilities were embarrassing, also both would arouse interest of an average person, so they didn't match Nanami's discrete plan. But what was the game without risk?

Nanami was closer to the boy. Though she remained calm, she felt tingling in her legs. Her shadow lengthened by the sunset licked his arm, betrayed her presence... A little more.

Then he moved. Nanami froze.

His shoulders, covered in a simple white shirt, shuddered, which was probably accompanied by tears as Nanami grasped that characteristic whistle of air sucked through the clenched teeth. He run his fingers through his brown hair in a nervous gesture, as if to pull it out. Nanami was ready to shout, fearing the boy would really hurt himself, but he only moaned. His voice was silent and weak, but impossible to overlook.

And her uneasiness eased.

Whoever was the boy, he seemed to be suffering now. He could be wounded or get lost. Nanami didn't want to add her own story to the accidental meeting, but in spite of herself she began to wonder if the boy was similar to her, if he has become a pawn moved to next field in the game he didn't know about.

If that was true, leaving him alone was a kind of cowardice.

She dared to come a little closer.

"Are you all right?" she asked, still holding her distance.

He didn't move a muscle, he didn't turn around, didn't give a sign if he heard her at all. Was he so lost in silent despair that he failed to notice a girl standing just a few feet away from him? Maybe. Could he be an enemy then? Of course - Nanami was proud of her status as a strategist, and so she wasn't one of naïve people or those who were easily fooled. Her judgment was now affected by premonition; strategies too often depended on the smile of fate, on unforeseen turns of events and the capricious irony of life. Too many factors influenced future; too many things could go wrong. The risk was written into her talent, so Nanami learned to make decisions without thinking of victory. It was premonition that told her now that the boy had a different aura than the man in black - more delicate, innocent and quite pleasant.

Nanami took a few more steps until she was facing him. Her shadow finally covered him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, trying to speak gently as not to scare him, "Did something happen? You feel bad... I think so... "

He didn't react.

Nanami frowned. Shifting the blame on fatigue or fear was one, but ignoring a person openly speaking to him was too much. She quickly counted on her fingers the most possible answers: the boy didn't notice her because he was blind or deaf; he didn't see her because he was cursed and stayed under someone's power; he was drugged - naturally or magically; she remained invisible to him because she belonged to another world.

One of the cards included the correct solution and drawing the right one could give Nanami a lot. Regardless of whether she would bring herself in danger or gain a new ally, she would always receive information. The game was worth playing, even if Nanami honestly preferred to avoid the bad end. So far, she had enough enemies to defeat.

She leaned over the boy, letting her hair fall, then waved in front of his face.

"Hello?"

She was so close that, if she wished, their foreheads could touch. So she moved away. If the boy really raised his head, Nanami would probably lose her teeth. It was a foolish way to get wounded, especially after meeting with a supernatural being.

"I'm not sure if you can't see me or just ignore me, but it's rude," she announced, puffing her cheeks, "if you hear me, you should know that I have no evil intentions. I come in peace!"

The last part was screamed in a tone that reminded her of battle games. She felt more confident.

Before Nanami realized what was happening, the boy laid his eyes on her.

“Who are you?”

His gaze was alert, and sudden surprise reflected on its surface like in a sheet of water. It was only then that Nanami came to the conclusion that, although she was trying to start a conversation, she wasn't hoping for an answer. She should say something, but her throat went dry. Nanami didn't like to admit it but she did badly in talks with people she didn't know. Generally, strangers needed a lot of time and special events to get to know her and unlock her friendship.

"My name is Chiaki Nanami. I'm a strategist and I'm coming from Princess Sonia's palace," she finally said, because nothing better came to her mind.

He watched her without a word. His eyes were green, and the color matched with the shade of grass surrounding them, so that the boy and his fountain were like natural elements of the landscape, characters inscribed in the frame. Now his pupils also reflected the amber freckles of the sunset, similar to spots of sunlight shining through the leaves. Nanami decided it was a very beautiful color.

Looking at her was probably not the most interesting thing because the boy got up, pushing Nanami back. Her hands fell limply on her sides. She and the boy were now close, heart to heart and breath next to breath, clumsily clinging to each other, and shimmering golden water from the fountain was spurting and flowing down like a woven veil. Nanami blinked when the puffs of dandelions, small clouds dancing and falling on their hair and shoulders, rose into the air by their sudden moves.

It was something. Usually Nanami was bumping into people in the corridors. She was off the ground and with her head in the clouds, where plans and strategies were hidden. Then she had to apologize and explain that she really got lost and didn't see anything in her way. The other members of the fifteen swallowed well this information, the novices handle on this worse. Interestingly, the board has been reversed. Somehow she understood why her behavior made guests so nervous - they probably hadn’t thought about trampling since Nanami was light and delicate, but rather minded that tickling feeling in the chest and blood flowing to the cheeks, things Nanami experienced now. She didn't know what to expect from the boy and uncertainty turned out to be an exceptionally uncomfortable feeling.

She raised her head. She thought she scared the boy, yet he wasn't looking at her but over her head. He was much taller than he seemed crouching on the edge of the fountain.

"Answer me! Who you are?!"

Suddenly, Nanami heard it too. Somewhere behind them thin twigs of bushes creaked, and a bird chirped and jumped up to the flight, crossing the sky. Nanami turned and followed the boy's gaze. She did it just when a young woman stopped in the rain of gilded sunset light.

"Why so serious? Better fall to your knees in front of the queen, dog!"

“What did you say?!”

The girl was moving unnaturally, gliding between stones like a snake although her clothes were far from a traveler's outfit. Nanami would rather think that someone dressed so phenomenally and impractically would be killed by the first bear on her way. The knee-length boots tied with the red ribbons could be seen as an element of a riding outfit if not for the high heels, making the girl balancing like on stilts. The bottom part of her tasteful dress lay on the crinoline and looked like a meringue. The front was, however, shortened to the knees as to show the boots while the long train was dragged along, catching dried leaves. The tight corset made the girl similar to a skinny mantis, but apparently didn't make it hard to breathe on a hot summer evening as she was smiling happily with light flushes on her cheeks. Nanami couldn't help it but respect this fashion icon.

The girl approached the fountain and stopped in front of the boy.

"My prince," she said in a singing voice, much kinder than before, "it's an honor to know you're in good health. And hear you greeting me!"

"I didn't greet you! I just asked who you are," the boy growled.

"Let your humble servant introduce herself and pay respects." The girl curtseyed, lifting the layers of frills decorating the dress. Her right leg bended, the left leg straightened so much that Nanami moved away, avoiding being kicked. Although who knows if the girl’s leg wouldn't just pass through her?

The boy called the prince didn't answer with a bow. There was surprise on his face, but when he spoke, his voice was surprisingly confident. Nanami could only guess there were a thousand questions in his mind, and half less self-confidence.

"Where are you from? I've never seen you near the fountain."

The girl bowed her head and her blond curls, tied in two ponytails, fell on her face. She wrapped a lock of her hair around her finger - Nanami has never seen such long and red nails - then sniffed loudly.

"You don't know me, Your Highness!" the girl sobbed with a tormented face and added like a mourner, "It's obvious. Who cares for a worthless sorceress like me? Even my future king doesn't remember me. And he should know all his subjects. What kind of a prince is it? Pathetic like me. Better step on me. Give me comfort, my lord."

"What are you talking about?!" the prince exclaimed. Nanami couldn't tell if he was upset or just panicked. A crimson stain on his neck was a sign of both states. "Stop insulting me! Besides, what's with the idea that a prince must know everyone!? It is impossible! We never met!"

"I expected the crowned head to be cooler, you know?"

 "You're doing this again?"

"No, my lord," the sorceress answered immediately, wiping away a tear.

The boy's eyebrows formed into a curve line. He glanced at the girl with uncertainty, which he tried to cover up with a smile. Nanami decided he was a bad actor.

"Will you tell me who you are?” he started, “Okay, you recognized me, but I still don't know who I'm talking to."

"Junko Enoshima, known in the wider world as the greatest sorceress of this millennium and the previous one, if she only would have an opportunity to live then. I recommend my services: love spells, deadly curses, chronic curses, bad luck curses and a few more!" she replied and sent the prince a cunning smile.

"I don't need any of your services, thank you very much."

"You're wrong, Prince Hajime Hinata, and you know why? Because I'm not done yet! Be quiet and listen to me!" Junko Enoshima said, checking the crown on her head.

The girl's personality was changing; it reminded walking along the nave and watching stained glass, each one painted in the same style and portraying the same characters but with scenes constantly changing. The girl who introduced herself as Junko Enoshima behaved humbly, then she almost cried on her knees and now she looked at the prince with supremacy proving that he was dependent on her, not vice versa. She also seemed more dangerous - when she smiled charmingly, Nanami almost expected to see fangs between her red lips. Junko Enoshima was like the man in black, Nanami realized, and shuddered. The prince had to come to similar conclusions as he gritted his teeth.

"I don't care what you have for me, Junko Enoshima. I don't deal with witches - "

"Sorceresses!" she corrected him with a sneer.

"Sorceresses..." Hinata repeated, giving up, "I'm doing fine by myself, I don't want any promises!"

Junko began to whisper, "You yell at me and you despise me. You hate me, yeah... "

"I don't hate you!"     

"You are cruel, although I've prepared what you need. One spell and the unprecedented talent will be in your hands. You can become a worthy successor to the throne, Hinata. All with my good will. But you still hate me. It's cruel. The world is cruel."

Something twitched in him. Nanami saw it clearly, as if she was looking at a musician pulling the cello's strings. She shivered at the sound of disturbing note that crept into Junko's voice, but the prince probably heard much more. At one moment, all the color drained from his face, leaving him pale like a corpse.

 A corpse illuminated by the light coming through the window in the dining room.

The prince noticed Junko just now, as if their entire conversation didn't happen. His hands began to tremble, so he clenched them into a fist to hide it.

"I... you have no right to say that to me," Hinata muttered much quieter than she expected, still not moving, "I am the heir to the throne..."

Junko didn't let him finish, skillfully silencing the boy with a poisonous laugh,"...and you know that giving you the crown is one big joke, right?"

"Shut up!"

"You're not right to rule, Prince Hinata Hajime. Nobody tells you this straight in the eye, but you are intelligent enough to know you're failing. You've realized it a long time ago, am I wrong?"

The witch just waved at him, then passed Nanami, not even looking at her. She was invisible to her eyes, just like to Hajime Hinata’s sight. Nanami decided to think it out later, when she would be free of other problems. For now, Junko approached the fountain and sat on the edge, crossing her legs. When the stiff crinoline of her dress went up, Hinata diplomatically looked away. Junko commented on it with a snort.

"All rulers are cruel, don't you think?" she purred. Her words were full of seductive softness that woke embarrassed in Nanami. "You're trying so hard, Hinata Hajime. After all, you're the prince, the fate of this kingdom will depend on you. But nobody appreciates it…" she took a theatrical break and glanced at Hinata, checking his reaction, "You're spending hours studying at libraries, learning geography of the neighboring lands, history and foreign languages. Admirable! But people in the palace, instead of supporting you, just whisper behind your back! Did you hear, my prince?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Hinata reply lacked a trace of conviction.

Nanami expected the boy to fight. At the beginning, he clearly marked the difference in positions between him and the strange sorceress. But as soon as he let Junko speak, she gained an advantage in this conversation. The scales leaned towards the weight of her arguments, and the boy was increasingly withdrawing. He didn't even try to deny.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Junko chuckled, as if the prince honored her with a compliment, "Let me guess... They can talk what they want?"

"Stop."

Junko straightened and started to imitate the stiff tone of an official, "Why does our prince learn so much? He is not stupid, but he needs a whole night to assimilate basic information. The world is not closed in books, there are more important things! He doesn't lack intelligence, but passion? Charisma? The royal court is served by the council of fifteen, gifted with great talents and helping the ruler in case of problems. But the king has the last word. So what if the prince has knowledge... He. Does. Not. Have. Any. Talent."

Junko sang the last sentence, shaking her head to the right and to the left. Hinata looked like he was slapped. He growled and after a moment found himself beside her, squeezing her shoulders.

 "I told you to shut up! It's not true! There's... There must be something... something I can do!"

 "Pathetic motivation, my prince, but so strong. Even the person bored with life like me is impressed."

Junko must have waited for Hinata to come near her because she grabbed the embroidered collar of his shirt and pulled him down, looking straight into the leafy green eyes.

"I can help you. I can give you all the talents - not just those belonging to the council. All the talents from around the world."

Something has changed. Nanami noticed only small pieces; Hinata's jaw trembling slightly, his brow furrowing even more than before, his hand tightening on Junko's arm. He was shaking like he was about to fall or shatter under Junko's heels, filling the path of his uncertain. And yet he didn't step back, just watched the witch and crushed her grin with a furious look.

Nanami came closer. Standing sideways was easy, especially when she wasn't a part of this scene, but among many skills Nanami has never possessed the talent of indifference. Even now, standing so close to them, she could still turn and pretend that the world was limited to what was far behind the branches. But a strategist had to look into the future, living on hope and one day realizing that friends standing beside her died.

That's why she pulled Hinata's sleeve, almost hanging on his shoulder.

"Don't listen to her!" she shouted, "She wants to use you."

Junko Enoshima, the mysterious lady. A riddle. And yet Nanami was sure that Hinata was placing himself in grave danger. Witches never offered gifts without payment. She said it aloud, but Hinata and Junko didn't notice.

It struck her how powerless she became.

"What do you mean?!"

"No!" Nanami shouted again. Still no answer.

 Junko gave Hinata the widest of all smiles. She tilted her head back, exposing her neck and squinting at the sun hiding behind the horizon.

"I can give you what you want. Thanks to me, you will become the most powerful king in history."

"That's kind of hard for me to believe that you will just give me talents," Hinata snarled back, "Don't make a fool of me. What do you want in return?"

Nanami shook Hinata until her nails dug into his exposed wrist. If she _really_ stood next to him, it would leave marks on his hands. But Hinata didn't see her. His skin remained impeccably white.

Nevertheless, Nanami didn't give up yet. To withdrawal at a difficult moment was not in the strategic nature - if one road turned out to be a dead end, it was necessary to climb to the mountain or dig under the wall. She spoke to him, hoping her voice would reach him with some unimaginable delay.

"Stop, Hinata," she began, forgetting about courtesy. He was so confused that Nanami completely ignored the princely title. "Don't talk with her. If you let her speak, it will be the end. You know it! Don't listen to her!"

"You are right, there is one small catch..." Junko laughed in a sound of intimately.

Nanami ran to the fountain to got water in her clasped hands. The droplets immediately started to leak between her fingers but she managed to splash Hinata's face. As she feared, her blunt desperation didn't leave a drop.

"A catch? So you want something from me?"

' _No,'_  Nanami fought.

"Yes," Junko said, "I want your firstborn child!"

Nanami looked at Junko irritated, puffing her cheeks slightly. She was joking around, at a time like this! In turn, Hinata's eyes narrowed, but his mouth remained wide open. Junko could as well tell him that she would give birth to his firstborn child.

"What?"

Junko couldn't help but snort. This snort grown and turned into loud laughter, echoing in silence of the garden and drowning out the sound of water. Showing an imperious look on her face, Junko pushed Hinata's hand and stood up, stomping on the prince.

"Did you really think I would ask for such a trivial thing?! You commoner, know your place! I am not from typical fairy tales. A modern witch, that's who I am!"

She raised her chin, looking in Hinata's eyes, and touched up the golden crown that earlier slipped off her hair. Hinata, apparently realizing that the witch mocked him, cleared his throat and looked away.

"Stop that crap! If you're going to make jokes, you're just wasting my time."

"Your vulgar reaction seems to be a rather primitive response to a situation where you notice the clear disproportion between our positions. This explains why you are trying so hard to regain your lost superiority through the common male power. Pathetic, but I can still make a man of class and talent out of you," Junko said, putting her finger to the chin. She was speaking like a teacher who faced an exceptionally slow student.

Nanami got headache.

"I don't understand you," Hinata hissed, "What do you want from me?"

"Like I mentioned before, my previous statement was just an attempt to reflect the archetype fairy tale, a joke of my previous personality. However, you do not have to take that mad personality seriously."

"Your previous personality!? What does it mean and how many do you have?"

 "Good questions. As for today, I conclude that the number of my personalities is innumerable due to how quickly I get bored with them, which creates my need to generate more. But I did not come to discuss my many representations. Instead, I want to offer you a deal."

"It will cost me a lot?" Hinata asked, his smile crooked. A smile falling to pieces. He felt less and less like the boy Nanami saw at the beginning.

"Yes, the risk is high, but let me explain: according to my theory, something extremely unacceptable has happened to the world around us. The predictability of human actions deeply disappoints me, which further intensifies my boredom. In the peaceful world, people are lazy, short-sighted and proud. It's terrible, my young prince. I would like to carry out an experiment that will put humanity in a new situation and you will become an important part of it. The final result is going to be the clash between hope and despair."

"What do you mean?" Hinata asked in husky voice.

"It means that I will give you all possible talents, what disrupts the natural order and influences the revaluation of human priorities. Thanks to me, you will gain power to become not only the perfect ruler of this kingdom, but maybe even the whole world. You can be the Ultimate Hope, my prince. Such a great spell will, however, require a sacrifice. I cannot guarantee that you will remain yourself. Not to mention the fact that collecting talents is quite a complicated task. It is very easy to fall into the abyss of despair. In conclusion, I give you a tool, but its use depends on you, prince. How strong is your determination?"

The last question was a sharp blade aimed at Hinata's heart, skillfully camouflaged under the layers of promises his ears were hungering for. The dagger that Junko hid behind her back. Not without reason she noted how hard Hinata worked, how he bent over books and studied all possible fields to discover a hidden talent. But knowledge didn't always come with natural predispositions. Nanami knew about it. Hinata was looking for a talent, but at the end of his path there was a precipice, and nothing was inside, only boulders that break bones when you take a step. It didn't stop him, however, from trying to become the best. If Hinata was proud of something, it had to be his determination. Junko didn't forget about it.

The prince stepped back. His previous hesitation disappeared.

 "I don't understand your desires."

 "I will explain everything in time."

"Is it true? That everything depends only on my... talent... to control this gift?"

Junko nodded and gave him a smile as wide as a spider's web.

"Of course. You just have to try. So we got a deal?"

"No!" Nanami exclaimed once again, running between them.

Then it happened. Hinata shuddered, searched through the air and found Nanami's eyes. Shock appeared on his face.

"What's going on here?"

Nanami didn't answer. She couldn't. This question was the last thing she heard from Hinata. Then the whole world disappeared; the sun and the fountain, the prince and the witch, as if someone blew out a candle and covered her dreams in darkness. Nanami wore up and saw a star-dropped sky, gazing at her from behind the bars.

Next to her was sitting the man in black.


End file.
